A Taste of Actual Warfare
by Alexei Kazansky
Summary: A chance for everyone to finally get those 99 souls and one witch. But there's a catch - a civil war in a foreign land. Pre-Baba Yaga's castle arc. Warning: High degree of modern military realism.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER

The following fanfiction is mostly non-canon, and pre-Baba Yaga castle arc, and may depict characters out of context. Extremely hardcore fans are advised to stay away. Also, the following work depicts a merger of the Soul Eater universe with a universe of the author's own making, based mostly on the real world, meaning that real-world rules will apply. Also, a large portion of this story's cast excluding the main Meisters from Shibusen will be OCs of the author. It should also be noted that the author is in fact NOT a Soul Eater fan.

CHAPTER 1

Almost two thousand years of warfare had stained these fields red with blood, but every year winter came and washed them white again. This would probably be the last war fought in this most ancient and barren place, if not for the seven souls that would try and save it, and unwittingly lend a hand to putting an end to the one of the most bloody wars in human history.

"Whassup whassup!" Shinigami said, bouncing around happily in the Death Room, where he was holding an audience with Maka, Soul, Black Star, Tsubaki, Death the Kid, and the Thompson Sisters.

"An opportunity such as this one doesn't show up very often. I believe the last time this happened was way back in… oh… 380. BC. Yup! And you, children, are going to have a really, really good time." Shinigami continued.

Black Star yawned and interrupted, "Just say it, old man. We have better things to d--"

He was immediately cut off by one of Shinigami's famous Noggin Chops.

"As I was saying," the God of Death said, while circling around the seven teens, "An opportunity such as this one doesn't show up very often. This will be the easiest 99 souls – and witch – you'll probably come across – ever."

The group leaned in intently.

"Maybe it would be easier for me to show you instead of just blathering on."

With a wave of his hand into his mirror, the image changed to that of a televised broadcast. The image of a human reporter in a blue bulletproof vest with the word "journalist" in big, white letters appeared on the screen. Behind him was a flurry of activity – soldiers in white uniforms running back and forth, with winterized tanks and other armored vehicles rolling across the screen with them.

"If you're just joining us," said the journalist, speaking in an English accent, "I'm reporting live from the city of Yekaterinburg, Russia, where government loyalist troops have began engaging separatist rebels who have declared all of Siberia to be a separate nation-state. Joining me is Major-General Dimitriy Bularkin. General, what can you say about the situation?"

The general cleared his throat and began speaking in heavily-accented English, "We are having situation under control. Rebels not cross into Ural mountains. We send over fifty thousand troops into enemy territory and--"

The general was cut short by what looked like a rocket barrage hitting the vehicles behind them. Suddenly the camera swung away amid shouts in Russian. The image changed immediately to a news room, where a female newscaster stared, slack-jawed, at the camera.

"It… appears we're experiencing some technical difficulties…"

Shinigami then waved his hand across the mirror, and the images faded away into the reflection of the Death Room.

"So, there you have it. The humans have started another one of their petty little quarrels."

"So, honored father," asked Death the Kid, "What's so special about this one?"

"Ah, good question. In this particular, special war, there are three belligerents, not two. The White Army to the west, the Red Army to the east, and the Black Army… whom nobody knows anything about, except maybe for me." he said, cheerfully. "Now here's where it gets interesting. The Black Army is led by a demon, and is supplied with thousands of evil humans by a necromancer, who, by the way, counts as a witch's soul."

"Oh my God!" squealed Soul, "This is my big moment! My ticket to becoming a Death Scythe! This is so cool!"

"It's also a race." Shinigami said, with a bit of a chuckle. "You see, since there's only one witch soul, you'll all have to race against each other to see who gets it first. A little healthy competition never--"

"Shinigami-sama, me and Maka will be the first to get it for sure!" Soul exclaimed, with a toothy grin, "We're the strongest ones, we have the most experience, and we're the coolest meister-weapon team in this whole school!"

"I beg to disagree." said Kid, staring coldly at Soul. "Apart from honorable father here, I have the most power in this room – now I'm not one to brag, but I am, in fact, the son of a Death G--"

"But I am the greatest assassin who ever lived!" Black Star said, just coming to consciousness from Shinigami's Noggin Chop.

"Slow down, you should rest." said Tsubaki, patting Black Star's head.

"Well in my opinion," Shinigami said, "You all have a fair chance of getting that 'one witch.' It only matters who acts fir—hey, where'd everyone go?"


	2. Chapter 2

A-135 Missile defense system, Russian Far East. Radar technicians were peering over a screen which was showing a very small object, too small to be a ballistic missile, yet too large to be a bird, heading straight for them.

"This is Hen House 4 to Operations Command, Hen House 4 to Operations Command," the radar operator said, in Russian, "We're seeing a small, fast-moving object, with heading, 290 degrees west. Possible guided surface to air missile."

"Acknowledged, Hen House 4, this is Command. Can you get us a visual, over?"

"Affirmative, Command. A MiG SKAT with a thermal camera and a full load of X-31Ps has been dispatched to intercept the object."

Kid had left Maka, Black Star, Soul, and Tsubaki back at the McCarran International Airport in Nevada. He didn't need a bulky, cramped excuse of an aviation disaster to fly in. He had Beelzebub, his Shinigami-powered flying skateboard. As he flew over the Pacific Ocean, he could finally see a bit of land.

"Finally." He said, "Looking at nothing but water for a day and a half… that was boring."

"Are we there yet?" asked Patti, who was in her pistol form, in Kid's hand.

"Please, stop asking that." Liz replied, who was also in her pistol form, "You've been doing nothing but asking that question for the past day and a half! Yes! We're there! Now I'm begging you – please stop!"

"Um… okay!" Patti said with a smile.

Suddenly, a large triangular shaped aircraft bypassed them overhead. It was going at four times their speed.

"Hen House 4 to Command. The SKAT has a visual."

"Command copies. Send her in on white heat thermal."

"Affirmative – you're not going to believe this."

A moment of silence.

"This is Command to Hen House 4… what the hell is that?"

"It… looks like a guy on a skateboard. He looks armed. Please advise a course of action."

"He obviously has no communication equipment. Uh… fire a warning shot. And then blast him out of the sky if he doesn't land."

"Roger that, Command. Remote-arming X-31P array."


End file.
